If we are sick
And we are all sick
How do words care
For the sick?
We are dying to live
There is something
I am dying to tell you
When language ends
Don't call this cure
Call this method
Call this the necessary
Blocks we throw up
To know we are here
And not just a voice
That pain is just the beginning
Of what we will say
To each other a kind
Of poetry just without
The poem.
